World Spins Madly On
by jenmc
Summary: One shot exploring where Captain James may find himself a couple of years down the line from the events in Bangladesh. All characters belong to TG and the BBC.
1. Chapter 1

_Woke up and wished that I was dead_  
 _With an aching in my head_  
 _I lay motionless in bed_  
 _I thought of you and where you'd gone_  
 _And let the world spin madly on_

 _Everything that I said I'd do_  
 _Like make the world brand new_  
 _And take the time for you_  
 _I just got lost and slept right through the dawn_  
 _And the world spins madly on_

 _(The Weepies, World Spins Madly On)_

 ** _October 2019_**

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

Charles scrambled on the floor of the soaked car park, knees now wet from the puddle he'd been forced to park his car in. The piles of paperwork he'd spent most of the night organising into some form of order had fallen from his partially opened rucksack and were now decorating the tarmac, until one by one they were either rescued or blown away by the strong autumn winds.

"This fucking day….." he muttered as he made his way into the imposing building, the sodden papers he'd managed to rescue in tow. He knew he'd have to find somewhere to sort himself out before he found his way to the briefing he'd driven for hours to reach. His internal panic levels began to rise in a now familiar way as he moved as quickly as possible.

The chilly corridor provided shelter but no warmth. The challenge of mentally pulling himself together started before he made his way to the room he'd been told in advance to attend. The now familiar process in his brain registered as he began the pattern of tensing particular muscle groups one at a time before letting them relax. To anybody watching him he would appear relaxed and at ease. The reality was a different beast.

"7 things you can see. Focus."

He muttered the instruction under his breath as his senses caught up and he remembered the mantra Sarah had taught him.

 _The grains of the wooden floor as the corridor stretched out before him._

 _The clinical brightness of the strips of light up ahead._

 _The 2 squaddies passing him by in the corridor, both nodding briefly to recognise his presence._

 _The tiny brunette woman now approaching him with a face that resembled something between shock and horror before it was tightly packed away and a neutral mask crossed her features._

 _Fuck._

The usual calming effect of the exercise to identify things he could see, hear and smell around him was defeated, the deafening thump of his heart rushing in his ears.

Her footsteps finally came to a stop as she approached, although he wouldn't have blamed her for failing to stop altogether. He was amazed it had taken this long for the first awkward meeting to take place.

"Molly"

"Sir" she acknowledged while staring past him and down the corridor, reminding him that he wasn't entitled to use first names any more.

His brain struggled with all the many things he should say in this setting. The words he'd gone over in his head so many times. He'd always known that their paths had to cross one day and he'd always tried to be prepared with some kind of explanation. Instead, words temporarily failed him. His head bowed for a second to meet her eyes as he took in the short wavy shoulder length bob, one side tucked firmly behind her ear.

"You cut your hair." There was a tone of surprise in his words.

"You fucked my mate." Her voice, devoid of any emotion or anger, cut through his thoughts. He flinched at the harshness of her words as she shrugged and now looked him dead in the eye. "People do surprising things."

The words didn't feel unlike the memory of taking a bullet to his stomach. It would never fail to surprise him how much he could cringe at most of his actions during that disastrous time in his life. He inhaled deeply before trying again.

"You look well."

It wasn't a lie, but he cringed the minute the hasty words left his mouth.

She bit back a response, clearing her throat noticeably. He only caught a brief glimpse of the anger flashing in her eyes before she masked it, her expression neutral once again. He was horrified at the change, realising that she was no longer the same Molly - the one who wore her heart on her sleeve. It was firmly locked away now. From him anyway.

"Was there anything else?" Her heels rocked on the ground, her impatience to flee the scene clear. His mind briefly flicked through the many professional reasons he could use to ask her to stay and speak with him, and found himself short. There were a million things he wanted to know; where she'd been, how she was. But he no longer had the right to ask.

"No." He shook his head as he forced his eyes to the ground for a brief second. Watching her mask any emotion, except a clear wish to run in the opposite direction had been even more painful than he'd thought it would be. He knew he deserved it, that it was nothing in comparison to the pain he'd caused her. "Nothing else."

She swallowed back what he suspected was something he might not want to hear, before turning on her heels and moving as fast as she could down the empty corridor without breaking into a run.

—

"I saw Molly yesterday. First time."

Sarah considered his words. She had a habit of maintaining eye contact in a way that tempted him to focus on the glass of water sitting on the table in front of him instead. Three times a week she presented him with the same comfortable chair to sit on, next to a table loaded with a glass of water and an ominous looking box of paper tissues that he'd never yet used. He hadn't voluntarily mentioned Molly's name in months.

"How did it go?"

He did his best impression of a man completely unbothered, nodding as he crossed his arms in defence. His brief attempt at a smile ended in a grimace.

"Yep. Fine"

"Fine?"

"Yes. Well as fine as it could have gone in the circumstances. I'm still in one piece I suppose."

An eyebrow was briefly raised at his attempt at a joke as she tried another route to get him to open up. Over the course of his time with her he had progressed well in many ways, but Molly was an ever lingering presence which had never truly been resolved. "How did it make you feel?"

He sighed at her usual question. The truth was it made him feel shit at the variety of ways in which he'd fucked up the best thing he'd ever had. He tried for a diplomatic response instead.

"Uncomfortable."

At Sarah's prompting stare, he continued "-she was different."

"In what sense? It must be quite some time since you've seen her?"

He looked pained at the reminder. "One year, eleven months and five days. Not that I'm counting."

Sarah nodded, her pen tapping on the paper as she considered the best way to continue.

"It would be more surprising if she was still the same Molly that you remember, surely?" At his silence she continued. "Separation from a partner is one of the most stressful life changes a person can go through. And the circumstances of your separation weren't amicable, were they?" She already knew the answer. The long term counselling was a condition of his deal to stay in the Army. One last chance to sort his world out.

"No. Not amicable." He cleared the lump in his throat as the sudden memory of her words the last time he'd seen her flooded his brain. The force of the emotion that flooded his body took him by surprise. The counselling and medication were usually enough at this stage to take the edges from the pain of the flashbacks, but this one had slipped through the net.

—

" _You've destroyed me. God fucking forgive me for saying this, but thank god Elvis ain't here to see what you've done. He'd be devastated." She sat on the bottom stair, the crumpled paperwork he'd been served with detailing the proceedings against him in her hand. Her eyes were raw with pain and tears, but he felt the usual numbness at the sight. Almost like none of this was happening to him. He was a sorry observer on somebody else's life, and had been since the minute he watched Elvis fall from that building._

" _Molly…"_

" _Don't talk to me. Just leave. Maybe ask her, when you see her for your next shag, if she remembers your wedding day and the vows she sat through where you promised you'd be with me until your last breath. The last thing you saw." Her voice broke at the last sentence._

" _I meant it Molly, I just…"_

" _Get out. Just get out!" As she stood from the stairs, the paperwork was thrown in his direction and he scrabbled to pick the pieces from the floor. "I don't want your bullshit explanation about how you need to take care of her. You can save it for the Brig. I just never wanna see you again. Either of you."_

 _There was no anger left at that minute, just a resigned acceptance as the tears crashed silently down her cheeks and he did as she requested, closing the door behind him for the final time._

— _-_

"Charles?"

"Sorry." He shook his head as if trying to rid the sudden memory from his brain. The numbness he'd felt at the time was replaced now whenever he relived the memory by a mounting sense of horror at what he'd done. He still couldn't quite bring himself into the present, the vision of Molly's pained face still in his consciousness.

"You seem distracted."

"I just don't understand." He trailed off as he tried to conjure up all of the reasons he'd used to justify his actions at the time. "I did what I did, and at the time it felt like it made perfect sense. Molly was always going to be brilliant. She didn't need me to make that happen. I truly felt like Lane needed me. We needed each other."

"And now?"

"And now.." his head disappeared into his hands for a brief moment before re-emerging. "All I can think is that it feels like it all happened to somebody else. Like I was an observer on my own life for huge chunks of time. I'm dealing with the repercussions, but I don't actually understand how it happened in the first place."

"The mind is powerful, Charles." He tried his hardest to avoid rolling his eyes at her words as she continued. "The feeling of numbness you describe was your brain and body's way of trying to protect you at that time." The look of deep scepticism on his face deepened but Sarah continued regardless. "Think back to when you were physically injured. To avoid feeling any pain, your body's reaction was to shut down through an initial reaction of numbness, yes?" He nodded with silent understanding at her explanation. "You were in shock. The brain is no different. One of the protection mechanisms it can revert to is the numbness that you describe."

There was a moment of reflection from Charles. "Ok. I can maybe begin to understand that part, but I struggle to accept how I could have convinced myself at the time that I was acting rationally."

"When you're suffering from PTSD, the usual rules don't apply in relation to reasoning. You were in denial about your condition, and the symptoms you experienced at that time. It's not unusual in that state to make decisions and act in a manner which would in normal circumstances make no sense to you."

He considered her words for a moment, the anguish clear on his face. "I'm not here to make excuses for my behaviour. I've seen plenty of colleagues with PTSD. As far as I'm aware, none of them have taken it as an opportunity to be unfaithful to their wives."

"Perhaps not. But I'm sure you will agree that it caused them to act out of character? Make calls and decisions which you wouldn't ordinarily expect from them?"

"Yes"

"So there is an element of common ground which you can appreciate?"

He didn't answer, mulling over her words. Encouraged by his silence, she pushed further.

"Are you still in contact with Corporal Lane?"

She realised she'd pushed him too far as he backed off physically, retreating into his chair. He paused, looking at the floor before he was able to raise his eyes and look at her again, the awkwardness clear in his face.

"We speak from time to time in passing, not often. I suspect she has even more contempt for me than Molly does, if that's possible."

"And why do you think that's the case?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak but paused before he began. It took a second or two for him to regain his composure and answer the question. "I pursued Lane. I used my position to my advantage and I continued to pursue her even when she'd told me no. I took advantage of her loneliness and grief, and I cheated on my wife. I broke my wedding vows." His voice faltered on the last confession. "They were both humiliated publicly thanks to my stupidity. Molly was destroyed. I don't blame either of them for hating me."

The weight of his words filled the room, Sarah's silence urging him to continue. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, bringing his elbow to rest on his knees as he leaned his body forwards. "I think the only thing worse than being in this position is knowing it was entirely self inflicted. I went against everything I believe in, everything I've worked towards, and I still don't fully understand why."

Sarah pulled her glasses from her eyes as she stopped taking the brief notes that were usual in their sessions. "I think it's important to address the ongoing guilt that you feel about the situation."

His eyebrows raised in apprehension. "It really doesn't feel helpful to relive it."

"I'm not asking you to relive it. An important part of your recovery is to acknowledge the events and move on from them though. You can't change what happened. What you do have some control over is how you move forward from this."

"I need to accept that Molly will never forgive me, don't I?" Worry lines creased his forehead before he tugged the hair at the back of his neck in frustration.

Sarah stood as she spoke, his signal that the session was already over. "I can't answer that question for you Charles. Nobody can but Molly. I can only suggest that you try to work towards forgiving yourself first"

—-

 _ **December 2019**_

As snow began to fall in soft flakes from the sky, Charles' fingers, numb from the cold, fumbled with the key to the door at Royal Crescent. The handle eventually gave way to let him into the vast hallway. The silence in the house wasn't surprising - Sam could usually be found muttering into the headset connected to his Xbox, playing against his online friends. Anything more than a grumble or mutter as he played would be unexpected.

"Hello..." his welcome echoed in the hall as he dropped his bergen to the marble floor and ventured towards the kitchen, where he was sure he would find company. Margaret James was predictable, and her favourite spot in the house, warmed by the large Aga oven creating heat in the room as she crocheted, was a running joke in the family. He wasn't wrong. She sat at the kitchen table behind a pot of a tea and a plate of biscuits he could have sworn were usually saved for visitors.

"Sorry to land on you early..." he moved towards her for a brief hug as he helped himself to a biscuit despite a crack on the knuckles from Margaret. She sighed as he continued to speak with his mouth half full of crumbs. "-Change of plans. Where's Sam?"

"He's upstairs."

The voice behind him caused him to whip round with full force with surprise. Her small frame leaned against the kitchen worktop, a full mug gripped by her hands. Her expression was no more welcoming than the last time they'd met, but he was more thrown by the familiarity this time. She wasn't in uniform, just her usual knitted jumper and jeans, in his parents' kitchen. It felt like he could have stepped back years in time to the last time they'd been here together. The awkward silence loomed until she filled it.

"Twice in two months now. Lucky me."

Molly smiled a small tight lipped smile as she aimed her eyes at Margaret instead of Charles, and placed her still full cup on the counter. "I'll be off then. Thanks again Mrs J. Don't get a good choice of biccies like that at barracks."

She wasn't escaping without a warm hug. "You're always welcome darling, you know that. Stay safe out there, and let me know how you're getting on."

Molly dared to aim a glance at Charles for just a second, his eyes aimed at the floor as he tried to ground himself.

"I'll just go up and say bye to Sammie before I leave, if that's ok?" The question was aimed at Margaret and he didn't intervene, still trying to wrap his brain around what the hell was happening.

"You don't need to ask dear. Are you sure you won't stay for dinner? You've a long journey ahead of you."

"Nah, I'm good thanks. Chips on the train back suits me fine." She threw the words behind her as she walked away from them and towards the door. Charles couldn't help but stare as she left the room and then bounded up the stairs the way she always had, two at a time, despite her height.

"No! Piss off!" He mouthed the words silently at his mother as she urged him to follow Molly up the stairs before she swatted him with a dish towel to move him out of the room and in the right direction.

—-

Ten minutes had passed as he waited silently at the bottom of the steps. He didn't want to intrude on her time with Sam, but waited for her to finish instead. He knew he'd soon hear the creaking footsteps at the top of the stair, from his place on the bottom step. They soon came, hesitating as she reached the bottom of the staircase, sitting at a safe distance from him and pulling her knees to her chest.

"This makes a change."

"Why?"

"It was me sitting on our steps waiting for you last time. Full sordid details of everythin' in my hand."

He almost wished for the numbing effect Sarah had mentioned to arrive at that point, the pain he could hear in her voice searing into his brain.

"Molly…. I need to talk to you about-.."

"-Don't." She reached for her empty ring finger wordlessly for a moment, the motion not escaping either of them. "I don't wanna hear it anymore now than I did back then."

The prospect of the same flashback as usual loomed in front of him until he remembered Sarah's words. He had to face this head on and accept his mistakes. "What don't you want to hear?"

"Excuses. Lies. Whatever you're gonna say to make yourself feel better."

"Trust me, there's nothing I can say to do that."

She sighed for a second, a brief moment of disbelief that it had come to this point between them before she quickly swept a lone tear from her cheek. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?"

"No. God, no. I don't want to argue Molly. Maybe one day you could bring yourself to talk to me about it. It's your decision." He took a deep breath, pulling the hair on the back of his neck for a second before he composed himself. "You should know that I'm so sorry though. For everything I've put you through. I'm getting help, working on being better. I only wish I'd done it earlier."

She didn't answer and he continued, just enjoying the gift of time to speak with her and trying to steer matters to more neutral conversation for a second.

"Where are you headed?"

Her glance in his direction was no more positive, but she answered him regardless. "Sudan. 16 weeks or so, they reckon."

"Be careful." His words were no more than a whisper. "Maybe we could have a coffee when you're back?"

She finally took the invitation as her cue to stand, shaking her head slowly. "I don't think so. I ain't here to be your mate. I shouldn't have come, I just wanted to catch up with Sammie, give him a cuddle and his Christmas present before I left."

"You've stayed in touch with Sam then?" He wasn't surprised. He'd long suspected they were still in some form of contact but hadn't wanted to scare her off by interfering.

"Yeah. Not his fault you did what you did, is it?"

Charles nodded slowly, the pain resounding in his chest "You know you can see him any time you want. He loves you Molly. He truly loves you." He bowed his head to hide the water that flooded his eyes. The silent words surfaced in his brain but went unspoken.

 _So do I._

"I love him too. Even if he's sometimes a little shit who prefers talkin' to a screen." The words were enough to raise his glance from the floor. Their shared grin ended after a few seconds, discomfort soon taking over as they stood awkwardly in the hallway, both remembering the first time they'd stood in the same place together."

"Did you know he has a girlfriend?" His voice lowered conspiratorially as he gestured his head upstairs to where Sam remained.

"Shut the fuck up!" He knew that the grin that crossed her face would be enough for him to die happy that he'd made her smile just one more time. "He still takes his secret teddy to bed, he aint got a girl on the go!"

"He bloody does. Rebecca found the snapchat messages on his phone. She's still trying to dig around to snoop. He's under covert surveillance." He let out a brief chuckle, despite himself. "God help the boy."

"Chip off the old block, eh?" It was meant as a joke but Charles' cheeks flushed bright red, and the awkwardness was now restored. She caught herself as she hovered at the front door. "Right. I'm definitely off this time."

"Goodbye Molly." There was nothing left to say but the obvious, and he tried to remember the exercises he'd been given to stay calm, despite the rising worry that this could be the last time he ever set eyes on her. "Stay safe."

She didn't answer as she passed him on her way to the door, but the small smile she offered was enough to provide the briefest comfort.

"I will."

She pulled her woollen hat on and made her way out to the snow dusted street, walking away from him. He didn't stop her, knowing he no longer could. As he watched her leave, she pulled her phone from her back pocket, typing a brief message before she hesitated and carried on walking without looking back.

—-

"Dad?"

"Yes Sam." He'd remained stuck at the front door, still watching the street long after she'd left, his left hand rubbing the scruff now appearing on his chin.

Sam reached the bottom of the stairs with a confused expression. "Molly texted and asked me to come down and give you a message?" He looked as mystified as Charles did, having long learned not to become involved in whatever was going on between the two of them.

"What did it say?"

Sam peered at his phone in confusion. "She says no coffee, but a tea might be ok?"

"Daaaaad! Don't!" He protested as he found himself grabbed into a bear hug by his dad, his hair ruffled from the style he'd carefully perfected in the mirror.

"God." Sam pulled himself away as he fixed his ruined hair in the mirror before hearing back to his room and leaving Charles to his thoughts. "Grown ups are so weird."

—-

 **AN** **.** **Thanks so much to those who have been asking for an update to Here Comes the Sun. I'm definitely trying, but currently finding it a bit difficult to square off the Captain James who has been in my head for the last few years with the one currently on screen. The beauty of FF is that it lets us play around with the original characters in the way we'd like to see them go, and this was really just an excuse for me to try to find my way back to where CJ's head could be (so thank you to anyone who takes the time to read my rambles). As ever, thanks also to itsembarassing for her encouragement and helping with the horrible doubts that can plague us all when putting ourselves out there.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN - I know, I know, but I couldn't leave it alone, and felt 'the chat' gnawing at me till I got it down on paper. This definitely isn't going to be any kind of big multi chapter story, but there are certain moments along the way that I can picture, and I'll try to add them if I can. I know this second one is in danger of not being a lot of people's cup of tea, and it's the most dialogue heavy thing I've ever done, but I needed to get it out! Thanks so much to anyone who took the time to read the first chapter, you're all very kind.**

 _Cos the love that you gave that we made_  
 _Wasn't able to make it enough for you_  
 _To be open wide, no_  
 _And every time you speak her name_  
 _Does she know how you told me_  
 _You'd hold me until you died_  
 _'Til you died, but you're still alive_

 _And I'm here, to remind you_  
 _Of the mess you left when you went away_  
 _It's not fair, to deny me_  
 _Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_  
 _You, you, you oughta know_

 _(You Oughta Know, Alanis Morrisette)_

 **April 2020**

As Charles watched the door open and close with the passage of customers arriving and then leaving with their takeaway coffees, he felt his heart sink with the passing realisation that she probably wasn't going to turn up. At this point, the nervousness he felt was beginning to convince him that she'd made the right call. He'd had to ask Sam for her new number to check in with her and test the waters on whether she was still open to hearing from him - to his surprise she was.

He was now regretting the agreement to meet at a Starbucks in the middle of central London though. What he really wanted to do was sit down with her in the house they'd shared. The same one he hadn't been able to bring himself to sell, where they could speak in private. He knew that the unfairness of asking her to do that would have been the wrong way to start things off, and he didn't want to push her. He'd travelled to Molly, knowing she was still visiting her family after her return from Sudan.

The door opened again, and he caught the flash of her now short dark hair as she swept in the door, shaking an umbrella to the outside world to get rid of the excess rain, and scanning the tables for a familiar face. As he caught her eye and beckoned with his head towards the table he'd claimed at the opposite end of the room, he felt the sheen of sweat start to form on his palms, and swiped them on his jeans. On her approach she didn't seem to have the same nervousness, and his leg rose up and down with anticipation, accidentally hitting the top of the table. His mind swept back to that similar nervous time in Bath as he waited for her to arrive for their first date. Back then, the relief when he'd seen her make her way to the table was palpable. Now, he could only feel regret and shame pulse in his veins and he longed for a moment for times gone past, when things were so much simpler.

She avoided any form of familiar greeting, focusing on taking off her coat and placing it over the chair as he tried to figure out whether a kiss on the cheek was too much and too soon. He didn't have a chance to test the theory. Her place at the seat opposite him was taken awkwardly, a brief smile when she met his eyes.

"Alright?"

He fumbled with the napkins on the table, folding the corner over with nimble fingers to start to make a triangle. He knew he had to get a grip of his nervousness and took a deep breath for confidence. "I'm good. You?"

"Been better." She shook her head with a sigh of frustration that he recognised from whenever she spent an extended period of time at home with her parents. "I need to get out of my Mum and Dad's gaff, they're driving me up the bleedin' wall already." For a moment he felt like he'd travelled back in time to when things between them were natural and familiar as she tasted the tea in front of her before she leaned forwards to grab an extra sugar from his side of the table and stir it in. "Nan's hooked up with some chancer from down the market. She's managed to fill the whole place with some knock off shampoo she reckons she's gonna make a mint off. The bleedin labels ain't even in English!" As she rolled her eyes to the heavens at the usual Dawes shenanigans, a feeling of loss suddenly attacked Charles from nowhere. He hadn't just lost Molly. He'd cut himself off from a family who'd accepted him without question and treated him like he'd always been there. It pained him to think what they must think of him now but he couldn't stop himself.

"Good old Nan. How is she?"

She paused for a moment, blowing on the hot liquid that steamed up before her. "Not your biggest fan. I managed to talk her out of a murder charge, but it was close."

He closed his eyes for a moment as the familiar feeling of regret washed over him. "I won't take a trip to East Ham any time soon then."

"Nah, I'd avoid the place if I was you. Not unless you're plannin' on taking a weapon for backup." Feeling uncomfortable with the clear sadness she faced on the other side of the table, she gestured to the cup of tea in front of her. "Thanks for the cuppa."

"Thank _you_. For agreeing to meet me. I wasn't sure you would."

She grinned tightly, the motion not meeting her eyes. "Couldn't put it off forever, could I?"

"Honestly?" His brow furrowed as he made a face that he hoped conveyed the discomfort he was currently feeling. "I wouldn't have blamed you for trying."

She didn't answer, simply wrapping her hands around the mug in front of her, not knowing how to move beyond small talk and onto the real reason they were here. Charles was in the same mode and grasped for anything to talk about except for the elephant in the room. "How was Sudan?"

"Same shit, different place." She looked exhausted for a moment before painting a smile back on her face. "Sorry. I'm still a bit off, you know? Trying to get back to whatever normal is." Their eyes met for a moment as she paused. She knew he could identify with that odd post tour feeling that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "I'm not sure you asked me here to ask about the shittin' hot weather out there, or just how many different ways the tosspots in my section can wind me up, did you?"

As much as he wanted to know the detail of what was going on in her life now, he knew he couldn't put the awkward conversation off for any longer with small talk. The words of Sarah rung in his ears as he tried to keep on top of the jolting surge of his heartbeat. She waited expectantly for him to start, her gaze never venturing from his.

"I still want to know all about your world. But yes, I think we do need to have a conversation. If you're ready to?"

"Trust me." Her steely gaze began to waver. "I'll never be ready to hear the ins and outs of this. But I need to. I need to hear it, so I can try and fix my own nut." At his curious glance, she looked up and met his eyes, explaining reluctantly. "You ain't the only one who has to see a shrink."

Her words floored him temporarily. "Shit. I'm so sorry Molly."

"Not all your fault. I've got my own stuff to deal with, goes back from before you. Not sayin' it helped that the one person I trusted shat on me from a great height, but there you go."

He wished the ground would swallow him whole as he tried to fight the urge to physically reach out to her. "I'm sorry. I'm aware of the many things I got wrong, but the most unforgivable one was destroying your trust in me."

She shrugged for a moment, struggling for the words she'd tried to organise in her brain already. "You weren't the only one that got things wrong, I can see that a bit better now. I'm still fucking angry about how it all went down, but I can start to see where I went wrong a bit."

He sighed, having already feared that this would be on her mind. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You tried to get me to see reason. You were the only one who knew I was sick. I was so delusional that I managed to convince myself _you_ were the one in the wrong, that it was all in _your_ head. I thought I knew best."

Molly raised her head, and for the first time, he saw the glassy tears of his own reflected in her eyes. "I know what it's like to lose your best mate in front of your eyes too, you know? To be convinced that if you'd acted differently they'd still be here." Silence took over for a minute as she struggled to explain. "I loved Elvis as well. He was a cocky little prick at times.." They both shared a smile that felt foreign for a brief moment "But he was lovable with it. I wanted us to get through it together."

"I know you did." He tried and failed to stop his own eyes filling this time. I can't give a rational explanation because there just isn't one. Sarah says.."

There was no chance to finish the sentence. "Who the fuck's Sarah?"

"My counsellor."

"Oh right, sorry." She trailed off, but not before he'd caught her horrified look.

The sudden fire in her eyes clicked with Charles as he realised what she was thinking. "If you're asking if I'm with somebody, no." He shook his head to reinforce the point. "A resounding no."

"What about _her_?" Molly's face suddenly dropped any emotion except for anger, and he realised they were headed to dangerous territory. "Bin you off did she?"

He took a deep breath, knowing he'd never be ready for the chat that was coming. "If you mean Lane, no."

"I do mean her, yeah. She's the elephant in the room ain't she? I mean most elephants don't have stuck-on pointy tits or the perfect face, but not many of us have that, do we?"

He cut her off before she could continue "I know you're angry with me, but that's not what it was about. That's not ever what it was about."

"I'm not just angry with you. I'm angry with both of you. That's been downgraded from humiliated and devastated. That lasted me a good year or so. I'm hoping to move on to mildly pissed off soon." She sniffed a small smile at her joke, despite not finding it remotely funny.

"If you're asking how long it lasted, the answer is a lot less than you've probably convinced yourself. I went downhill fast after we came home from Bangladesh. It became obvious quite quickly that I wasn't functioning, and I wasn't alone. She was suffering from PTSD as well." Molly suddenly looked like she might stand and bolt from the table, but to his surprise she remained seated, shoulders tense. "I know it must hurt to hear this. Christ, it hurts to even say it."

Molly picked up one of the remaining sugar sachets, trying to concentrate on anything but the dull ache in her body that went with picturing him with Georgie. Time had lessened the pain a little, but sometimes a ferocious moment of loss would consume her when she least expected it. She didn't want it to hit her now and stop her from telling him what he needed to hear.

"It hurts you?" She started quietly before increasing in confidence. "Put yourself in my shoes. What if I'd done it?"

He was in equal mixtures flummoxed and wary of what her next words would be, watching her carefully, as if she were a wild, untamed animal that he needed to be wary of. "Done what?"

She stared for a beat, keeping her voice low so that her words could only be heard by them and not the girl collecting empty cups two tables away. "Shagged somebody else"

He felt the wave of revulsion through his body before she'd had a chance to finish her sentence. "Molly. Don't-"

"It ain't nice is it." She stared him dead in the eye, her expression hard. "Wondering what could have happened." Her tone became suddenly low and wistful. "Thinking about them warm, sweaty, lonely nights on tour. What if I'd got to breaking point one night and gone to my CO's tent looking for comfort?"

He knew exactly where she was going with this and he desperately tried to halt the direction the conversation was headed. "Please?"

There was no stopping Molly now. "You'd be sat home alone, always wondering, always tormenting yourself over how many times, and how many different ways we'd done it. Did I enjoy it?" The moment lingered between them as he tried not to visualise what she urged him to. "Did I whisper his name into his shoulder when I came. Or was I louder than that? Did I make enough noise for the others to hear? Was he on top, or was it me taking charge and letting him know just how I liked it. Where I wanted to be touched."

"Christ Molly. _Stop_." His head was now in his hands, his palms boring into his eyes as he tried to erase the images she'd just introduced to his brain. "I've already told you, it wasn't like that.."

She couldn't stop herself now, the emotions washing over her like it had only just happened yesterday. "Wasn't like what? Like sex? Cos that's exactly what it was. I've heard the whispers behind my back at barracks, on ops, all the snide little comments. She came to your tent in the night and you _fucked_ her." Her last comment was barely more than a whisper. "You wasn't gonna wait out for her like you forced us to do in Afghan, were you? Is it cos you wanted her more than me? Was she more of a challenge, was that it?"

He slammed his palm onto the table, harder than he'd meant to do and causing the cups to shake ominously for a moment. "For _fuck's_ sake Molly!"

"Don't 'for fuck's sake' me! If I'm gonna talk to you about all this shit then you need to hear it, and I need to say it."

He remained silent, his eyes boring into the table until her next statement. "I had to go to the fucking STD clinic you know!" Her voice lowered as she looked around her, suddenly aware of her volume. They were starting to attract stares from the few occupied tables at the other side of the room, and the last thing she needed was to be overheard. "To get tested for all sorts. Didn't even trust that you'd be bloody smart enough to wear a condom when you were shagging around. D'you have any idea how that felt?"

He tried desperately to pull her back from the sudden rage he could feel radiating from her. "I need you to understand that I wasn't thinking straight at the time. Under normal circumstances.."

She interrupted him with a muffled cry of frustration as it was her turn to bury her face in her hands, her words temporarily muffled. "Oh I know you wasn't thinking straight!" Molly met his eyes, the anger making way for helplessness. "I was there, I was living it with you! I begged you to get help. I literally got on my knees and _begged_ you to speak to somebody, anybody. All you did was run further and further away from me. You forced me out of our marriage."

He could hear the frustration in her voice, and shared the feeling. "I only wish I'd listened to you sooner. I was in denial. About everything. You were the only one who knew me well enough to know what was truly going on in my head, so I pushed you away. I know that now." Her silent stare urged him to continue. "I convinced myself that the only thing that would help was more tours, righting the wrongs I'd committed." He let out a deep sigh of helplessness at just how out of control the conversation was getting. "I couldn't have been more wrong. Christ, I was a mess. I'm lucky they still let me stay in the army after the fuck ups I made, not even including Lane."

The volume of the groan that came from her surprised then both, before she wiped her now damp eyes with the sleeve of the jumper she'd pulled over her hand. "You know, I'm upset with myself as much as anything. For it coming as a surprise. When we first got together, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to wake up and realise that you weren't meant to end up with a gobshite CMT who wasn't even anywhere near your league."

"You know for a fact that's bullshit." He tried to cut the familiar words off before she finished. She'd always had the same low opinion of herself.

"It's not though." She shook her head adamantly. "It was never gonna last between us, but I let you convince me I was wrong about that. You broke down everything I put in the way to defend myself. You made me believe in myself. In us. Until it was all gone and I had nothing left to defend myself with."

Charles' eyes focused on the now cold liquid pooling in his coffee cup, unable for a moment to meet her eyes and look at the pain he'd caused her. He finally found the courage to look up. "If there's one thing I need you to know, it's that my actions were down to me. I let both of us down, and it wasn't because of anything you did or didn't do. You couldn't have changed the outcome."

Her eyes almost bore a hole into his own as she stared him down. "I don't believe you."

"I know. Believe me, I know." Unsure of what to say to try and convince her, he leaned back and raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment, arms crossed and hands tucked firmly under his armpits so that he wasn't tempted to reach forward. "It took me a hell of a long time to be able to trust myself again, to trust my own mind. I'm still sorting the shit from the clay now, but I'm getting there."

Her eyes pulled away temporarily as the clink of cups announced an arrival at one of the tables close to them. It made her lean forward towards him to lower the volume of their conversation. "I'm sorry."

"I think we've established you've nothing to be sorry about."

"Maybe I gave up too soon, forced you to do what you did. I shouldn't have taken any tours. Stayed home and made you get help." The tear that rolled down her cheek was swiftly followed by another stream before he untucked his arms and dared to lean forward across the table and brush her cheek clear with one thumb. She didn't stop him, but the tears continued to flow.

"Molly.." He stared her down and continued to apply pressure with his thumb, unable to stop himself from comforting her in some way. She looked away, overwhelmed, but he continued to speak. "I didn't leave you with any choice."

She returned her eyes to his, hesitating only for a minute before she spoke.

"Do you love me?"

The words took him back to another time, to a dusty road in Afghan, when the fear of that question and his feelings was palpable. Now his only fear was losing her forever, and he answered without hesitation.

"Yes" his voice caught with the emotion of the next words from his mouth. "Always."

He couldn't stop his other hand from also placing itself on her cheekbone, their heads meeting for a brief second as he continued to catch her tears and asked the question he dreaded the answer to.

"Can you ever forgive me Molly?"

She closed her eyes for a second, smaller palms raising to grasp his where they met her face.

He felt a shudder from her shoulders and knew she was trying to hold back the tears before they turned into a sob. His hands were pulled down from her face by her own hands, and returned to his side of the table. Her fingers pressed against his for an extra few seconds before they withdrew.

"I don't know."

Charles exhaled a breath he didn't even realise he was holding, the crushing wave of uncertainty crashing over him.

After a pause, she continued. "I think you need time. To sort your world out." She sniffed for a second, composing herself once more. "I think I need to do the same."

Before Charles could take the time to process her statement, the jacket that had been over the back of her chair was grasped as she rose to her feet without warning.

"Thanks. For being honest with me."

She was gone before he could stand and follow her, threading through the tables to make as swift an exit as possible, leaving her umbrella on the floor in her wake.

"Molly!" he grabbed the only physical evidence that she'd been there with him and took off from his thick wooden chair, bumping his hip on two other tables and muttering an apology as he left.

He tried to ignore the ache of discontent coming from his leg at the sudden movement; the long term pain from his injury just another part of his new reality that he was forced to deal with. His feet reached the damp pavement outside, eyes scanning the packed pavement for any sign of her. He didn't have to look far. She'd practically broken out into a run as she crossed the street, narrowly avoiding a car that beeped to make its presence known as she darted between the traffic.

"Molly!"

His decibel level was thankfully one thing that hadn't changed over the years, and she immediately halted when she safely reached the pavement, back straight, as if she was tempted to stand to attention. He held his hand up by way of apology to the same driver who'd been taken by surprise by two different pedestrians jumping in front of him and reached her on the opposite side of the road. Charles held the soggy umbrella out as a peace offering as she watched him warily, ignoring the light rain that had started to fall again.

"Thought you might need this."

She accepted his offering without a flicker of a smile, although her tears had at least stopped.

"Thanks."

As she turned to restart her route towards the tube station, a wave of foreboding filled him and caused his arm to reach out for her wrist, stopping her.

"There's just one thing."

"What is it Charles?" At his small smile she watched him quizzically, waiting for him to elaborate.

"At least you've stopped calling me Sir."

"Piss off." It was whispered and barely audible but he felt the pain radiating from her.

"I know you need time Moll. And you're right, maybe I do too. And I know I have no right to ask anything of you. But please, when you think of us, try and remember how things used to be. Before it all went to shit."

Her head hung lower. "I don't know if I can."

He leaned forward a fraction, placing his hand under her chin and raising it so that her eyes met his. His hand moved up to her cheek as he moved even closer, hovering his lips over hers for what felt like minutes. She didn't seem to be breathing, her whole body tense. They were barely touching, but he felt the energy surge through his body as if he'd been charged. Shoppers passed through the crowds and bustled past them, completely unaware of the two still figures on the pavement.

Charles moved to drop the briefest whisper of a kiss to her lips, deepening it slightly as he finally felt her body respond and mould itself into him. He felt a drop of water on his thumb and couldn't work out for a minute if it was her tears or raindrops as he pulled his mouth away from hers, struggling to get on top of his racing heart. He was distracted from the same water that had dropped from his own eyelashes, and he felt her fingers brush his own cheek in the same move of sympathy before she sighed wearily and backed away with a simple request.

"Give me time. To try and find my way back."

He watched her back away further, resigning himself as she moved away from him that nothing else was in his control. He'd done what he could for now.

"You know I will."


End file.
